


Ran So Far From Myself That I Smacked Right Into You

by agirlintheville



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Bruce Banner, F/F, F/M, M/M, Miscommunication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9807815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlintheville/pseuds/agirlintheville
Summary: "This is normal. This is completely normal," Bruce whispered, gripping the desk hard."Bruce? It's okay, just...""No, it's not! It's not...I thought...for my whole life..." The words wouldn't come anymore and he pushed away from the desk, backing away until he hit the wall. He tipped his head back and clenched his hands. "I thought I was broken."





	

_“Clint, come on, please! Open your eyes!” Bruce sobbed, rocking the limp body in his arms. Gasping, Bruce raised his head, looking around wildly. He saw the girl standing on the other side of the road, her dress splattered with mud. “Get help,” he screamed at her. “Go! Get help!”_

_She looked at him sadly, and yelled back, “What do you regret?”_

_“Get help!”_

_“What do you regret?”_

_Clint coughed violently, blood staining his lips. “Clint, no, please!”_

_“What do you regret?”_

_“Clint!”_

 

Bruce could be shockingly oblivious when it come to social matters. He had a great sense of preservation and, due to all the superheroing, was developing a keen nose for danger. Not to mention, that he was brilliant when maneuvering around all the posturing that occurred at the conferences he attended. But place him in an ordinary social situation, and he was way too often clueless.

Which is why he didn’t realize he was on a date with Clint until they were walking home.

It wasn’t any overt sign, just finally all the clues fell into place- Clint coming by his door to pick him up for dinner, pulling out his chair, paying for the bill, lending him a scarf for the chilly walk. This was a date. This was a fucking date.

“Bruce?”

He looked up and realized he had stopped walking to have his epiphany.

“Bruce, you okay?” Clint came closer. “It’s cold, man. We gotta keep walking.” He reached out to adjust Bruce’s coat, buttoning the few buttons that had been left open.

Bruce watched the deft fingers, and said absently, “Sorry. I just realized we were on a date, and I just absorbing that information.”

The fingers stilled, and slowly fell away. Bruce looked up to Clint’s guarded expression, and stammered, “I mean, we are right? I’m not reading this wrong?

“Uh, yeah. I...well, it doesn’t have to be...I mean, if you don’t want it to be, we can just-”

“No, no, I do. I mean, I...yes. I want this to be a date.”

“But you just realized? Like right now?”

Bruce scratched his head, “Yeah, I miss things like that sometimes.”

Clint suddenly grinned, “Or I need to step up my game. Geez, Bruce, we literally just had a candlelight dinner.”

Crossing his arms, Bruce scowled, “Yeah, at a restaurant that we go to all the time.”

Laughing, Clint threw his arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “Yeah, but I paid. Classic date move. Come on, let’s keep going now that we’re on the same page.”

Bruce relaxed into Clint’s hold. “Like I said, I miss things sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Clint snorted. “But hey, now, I can hold your hand without seeming like I’m being too forward.”

<><><>

The problem with dating Clint was that Clint was...Bruce closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the window panes, taking another pull from his joint. Clint was energetic, vivacious, beautiful, caring, and...he liked sex. The truth was the problem with dating Clint was that Clint was a normal man who liked sex and wanted to have frequent sex with the person he was dating.

Meanwhile, Bruce was...he sighed and opened his eyes, trying to see his reflection in the window. All he saw were the lights of the city winking back at him. He pushed away, and placed his smoke in an ashtray. He couldn’t show up to Clint’s rooms smelling of weed, not again. He stripped his clothes, and headed to the shower. Too bad there was no water hot enough to keep the thoughts and memories from swirling round his head.

 

It started about a month in their relationship. They had settled in a great routine, much like the routine they had before they started dating, just now with more kisses and cuddles. They were settled on the couch playing Halo when Bruce noticed that Clint was running into situations where his character would blow up spectacularly.

“What the hell? Are you purposely losing?”

“Nah, man, course not,” Clint laughed. “Just can't be super focused when you’re around, you know?”

Bruce blushed- Clint had been making comments like that even before they started dating, but now they were accompanied with suggestive leers.

When the round ended, Clint groaned and stretched his arms over his head. “Think I’m done for the night.”

“Okay, I’m gonna play one more.”

“Sure thing,” Clint agreed, snuggling up to his side.

Bruce refocused his attention on the game, but then he felt Clint’s hands roaming underneath his shirt in wide, sweeping strokes. Clint liked to touch bare skin, so that wasn’t unusual, but it was odd for Clint to play with his nipples. Pausing the game, he craned his neck to stare at Clint.

“Yes?” Clint said cheekily.

“Um, what are you...I’m busy here.”

“I know, you go on. I’m not interrupting.”

Bruce turned back around, and continuing his game, trying to ignore Clint’s hands even as he felt them go lower. When they brushed over his crotch, he jumped and dropped his controller.

“Clint!”

Clint started laughing, “Oh my god, you are too cute. Come here.”

Bruce turned, and caught Clint’s lips in a kiss. Clint wound his arms around his waist, and Bruce felt himself relax. This was familiar ground. But when he felt those hands move lower and settle on his belt, he stiffened and pulled away.

Clint licked his lips, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t…” _want this._  Bruce swallowed and shook his head. “I thought we were taking this slow.”

Clint laughed again, “Bruce, we’ve been dating for a month. How much slower do you want to go?”

“Is a month slow?”

“Is a month…” Clint saw his face, and his grin faded. “Oh, you’re serious.”

Flushing hard, Bruce tried to pull away further, but Clint gripped his arms.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Just come back...please?”

Bruce looked at him and then settled his head on Clint’s chest. Feeling gentle fingers in his hair, Bruce began to feel his heart slow. There was silence, and then- “I didn’t mean to push you.”

“It’s fine...I just...wasn’t ready.”

“Okay, you let me know when you are.”

 

But now it was stuck in his head. He had completely forgotten that most people- _normal people_ \- liked to have sex on regular basis. _Wanted_  to have sex on a regular basis. Clint wanted to have sex with him. Meanwhile, he wanted to throw up at the thought of it. He didn’t know what to do. Clint had said whenever he was ready, but what if he was never ready? And he could feel Clint’s impatience, how much he was holding back whenever they made out, and he knew he wasn’t imagining the frustrated sighs.

So he fell back on what he used to do in his previous relationships- he got drunk.

 

Staring around the karaoke bar, Bruce was comfortably wedged into booth between Clint and Sam. He really enjoyed this bar with its low lights and comfortable noise level, not to mention watching karaoke was a secret joy.

“I cannot believe that you, Bruce, of all people, like karaoke.”

Bruce took a gulp of his drink, “Just watching it, not actually doing it.” He took another quick sip. “Something about watching people badly perform rock ballads soothes my soul.”

Sam laughed, and leaned across the table to talk to Sharon. Bruce smiled and looked over at Clint, who was watching him with a grin.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like seeing you happy.”

Bruce grinned back and finished his beer, pushing the empty bottle to the edge of the table. A waitress walking by snagged it and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He nodded and turned back to Clint, who was now wearing a tiny frown.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just...that’s your third one”

“You’re counting my drinks?”

“No, course not. Just observing. You don’t usually drink this much.”

Bruce felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. For his plan to work, Clint couldn’t know he was purposefully trying to get drunk. He looked around for a distraction, and found it in Sam and Sharon trying not to listen to their conversation.

He forced a grin onto his face, and said, “Are we here to talk about my drinks or are we here to watch Sharon make a move on our favorite Russian spy?”

Predictably, Sharon blushed and scowled. Sam picked up the thread, and chimed in, “Hell yes. What song are you gonna woo her with? Beach Boys  _God Only Knows?_   Etta James  _At Last?_

“You'll have to wait and see,” Sharon said with a smirk. “You sure she’s coming?”

“Yep, just texted her, she’s on the way. You can’t go wrong Morrison’s _Brown Eyed Girl.”_

“She doesn’t have brown eyes.”

“No, but that song is great!”

Rolling her eyes, Sharon pushed him, and pulled the song book over to her. Bruce laughed along with his bickering friends, but he could feel Clint’s eyes on him.

 

He stuck with his drink while Clint was in the booth with them, internally panicking. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough for this to work. But he was saved when Natasha and Steve showed up and Natasha promptly dragged Clint to the front to sign up for a song. While they were gone, Bruce tapped Sam on the shoulder and indicated the bathroom. After Sam nodded and turned away, Bruce swiftly made his way to the bar and leaned on it where he couldn’t be seen by his friends.

When the bartender looked over, he raised his fingers. “Two shots, bourbon.” He glanced over to his friends to make sure they were still occupied. Clint was arguing with Natasha up front, and Sharon had joined them. Sam was now in the booth with Steve, and they were...quite occupied. He shook his head, and turned back when he heard the clink of glass on the bar top. Downing the two shots, he ordered one more and a beer. He took the third shot, and took the beer to one of the tables near the darkened edge of the stage.

Clint spotted him, “Bruce! We’re gonna sing _Copacabana_!”

“Awesome,” he grinned, and settled in at the table. He could already feel the liquor loosened his limbs. Perfect.

 

After their song, Clint and Natasha joined him to watch Sharon’s performance.

Standing on stage with the lights reflecting off her glittery top, she took a breath and said, “Alright, this is going to be sappy, but I don't care. This song goes out to a special woman in my life. When I first met her, she stole my pizza and my gun. I didn’t realize it, but she stole my heart too. Natasha, this is for you.”

Bruce looked over, and saw Natasha was slumped in her car with her eyes wide, which for her was pretty much sitting ramrod straight with her mouth open.

Sharon began to sing and Bruce was immediately was enraptured. As she hit the chorus, Clint wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Who knew Sharon had such a good voice?” Clint breathed into his ear.

“I have a feeling you did,” he murmured back.

“I may have practiced with her for tonight.”

“Cupid come to life huh?”

“Cupid, huh? Best be careful of my arrows.”

“You’ve already got me in my heart. Maybe you can get me someplace else tonight.”

He felt Clint still beside him. “Um...what do you mean?”

He turned and kissed under Clint’s ear, gently nipping his lobe. He grinned as Clint audibly sucked in a breath. He whispered, “I think you know what I mean.”

Clint whimpered, “Christ, Bruce.”

At that moment, applause broke out around them as Sharon’s song came to an end. She smiled at the crowd, and then looked uncertainly to where they were sitting. Natasha, who hadn’t taken her eyes off Sharon, stood up and stalked towards the stage. They watched as she easily climbed the stage, caught Sharon in her arms, and bent her backwards in a deep kiss. As the crowd whistled and hooted, Bruce turned to Clint and whispered, “Take me home. And take me to bed.”

Clint stood up so fast, his chair almost tipped over. He grabbed Bruce’s hand, and pushed them through the crowd and out onto the street.

 

He was feeling the sweat cool on his body and idly running his fingers up and down Clint’s back, when Clint murmured with satisfaction, “Man, Bruce, that was incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely worth waiting for.”

He hummed as Clint settled in fully against him. But then he heard the sleepy addition, “We should do this, like all the time.”

His stomach flipped, and he clenched his teeth. Breathing deeply through his nose, he focused on the feel of Clint’s skin on his fingers. Fine, that was fine. Dating Clint was worth it. He could do this.


End file.
